


Bruises

by itainthardtryin



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3446342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itainthardtryin/pseuds/itainthardtryin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn isn't at Brittany and Santana's wedding, and everyone knows something is up. No-one ever expected this though. </p><p>Trigger warning for domestic violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

“This wouldn’t happen again, Britt. It wouldn’t,” Santana asks, begging her voice not to show how truly nervous she is. “Would it?”

Brittany strokes the inside of her arm and it soothes her slightly, but she still can’t shake the fear. “She’ll be here, okay? It’s Quinn. She’ll be here,

“That’s what’s worrying me. She’s always on time. She’s our best friend, Britt. And the ceremony is starting in half an hour… and she’s still not here,” her voice cracks a little on the last few words, and she can feel the emotion in her throat.

“Baby, she’s okay. It’s okay to worry, but she’s fine. I gave Lord T a tracking device to keep an eye on everyone, I can get him to open the laptop and check if you want.” That makes her smile. Brittany can always make her smile, even when she’s freaking out.

“Do you think it’s our bad luck because I saw you before the ceremony?” she asks in a small voice.

Brittany pulls Santana into her and she leans her head on her chest. Her arms wrap around her and it feels like home. “Hey, you said yourself that the rules don’t apply to us, so don’t start changing that now.”

“But, what if she-”

“Give me a minute, I’ll go and ask Rachel if she knows anything.”

“Whatever you do, don’t get Berry to text her, God knows how well that helped last time.”

“Have you text her? Or called her?” Brittany asks.

Santana scoffs, because of course she has. “Like stalker amounts, Britt. She’s not replying, not answering.”

“Okay, stay here. I’ll find out what’s happening.” Brittany kisses her on the forehead and leaves Santana sitting alone in the room, the fear in her stomach rising even more with every second.

This wouldn’t happen again. Would it?

 

* * *

 

Finding Rachel in the midst of everything could not have been easier. Even though she had no part in planning the wedding, she was there in the barn squawking orders like she was the one getting married.

“You,” Brittany said, pointing at Rachel. “Outside, now.”

Rachel looked like a deer in headlights, that she’d been caught telling everyone what to do on a day that wasn’t hers. She reluctantly made her way outside, following Brittany.

“Brittany, I’m sorry for being so bossy, it’s just that weddings now bring out the worst in me, and since my own didn’t work out I’ve been craving the control of-”

“Quinn,” Brittany says, getting straight to the point, and Rachel’s face drops. “Have you heard from her?”

“I mean, I haven’t checked my phone for a few hours but the last time I did I hadn’t. Why? Is everything okay?”

Brittany silently curses under her breath. “Check your phone, let me know if she’s contacted you. Santana is out back losing her mind because she thinks it’s happening again.”

Rachel’s face turns pale. “It wouldn’t. It can’t.”

“I know,” Brittany says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s obviously fine. We just need to find out where she is, and Lord T is having trouble with the radar.”

Rachel looks like she’s about to speak, but then swallows her words.

“If you know why she isn’t here, you need to tell me,” Brittany says, watching Rachel.

“It’s just- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-” Rachel takes a breath and steadies herself. She doesn’t look at Brittany. “She’s not coming.”

“Of course she’s coming, she RSVP’d yes, we’ve put her on the top table.”

Tears start to pool in Rachel’s eyes as she makes eye contact with Brittany again. “No, she didn’t. A few weeks ago we met up in New York. She told me she’d received your invitation, and she told me she wasn’t going. I asked her why, but she didn’t tell me. I begged her to come, she’s your best friend - but she said she couldn’t.”

Brittany looked confused. “But she RSVP’d yes.”

“That was me. I sent a reply card for her. I thought if I had a few weeks I could get her to come. I tried. I text her and called her, but she didn’t return any of them. Brittany, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“To ruin our wedding day?” Brittany said. “My wife-to-be is sitting out there, waiting for her best friend to show up. She has all these scenarios running through her head. Of a car wreck and hospitals and having to call this whole thing off. She’s already been through hell and back trying to get her Abuela here, and now you’re telling me that her best friend isn’t going to show up to the most important day of her life, because you got her hopes up that she would? You’ve done some mean things in your time, but this... “ she trails off. “I need to be with Santana.”

Brittany storms out of the room, leaving Rachel to think about what she’s done.

 

* * *

 

As soon as the door cracks open, Santana’s attention immediately turns to it. She stands up. “Well?”

Brittany’s heart is breaking a thousand times wondering how to tell her the news. In some ways this is worse than what happened at Rachel and Finn’s wedding, because at least that time was out of her control. She was on her way. This time, she’s consciously chosen not to come, and that hurts more than Brittany could imagine.

Brittany looks into Santana’s eyes as she says the words. “She’s not coming.” She watches as a million different emotions play out in those eyes - confusion, anger, disappointment. They settle on heartbreak.

“What do you mean she’s not coming? Did her car break down or her flight get cancelled or something?”

“When we received her reply card… it didn’t come from her.”

“Of course it did, it was in her writing.”

Brittany reaches out to take Santana’s hands in her own. “It wasn’t from her. Turns out Rachel’s become pretty good at imitation.”

Santana swallows, trying not to cry. “Quinn isn’t coming to our wedding?” It breaks Brittany’s heart to see her so upset.

“No,” Brittany says, and tears start to fall from Santana’s eyes.

“Britt, she has to be! She wouldn’t miss this!” Santana says desperately. “She’s our best friend, she’s been there through everything, she wouldn’t do this!”

“Santana, she’s not coming,” Brittany tells her again, firm yet sympathetic. It’s not only Santana who’s upset. Brittany can’t quite believe that Quinn has purposely chosen to miss their wedding. As Santana said, Quinn’s been there through everything. All the lows, and all the highs. And this is the highest high they’re ever going to have and she’s missing it?

“There has to be more to this,” Santana tells her, wiping the tears away from her face. “There’s no universe imaginable where Quinn fucking Fabray bails on us on our wedding day. No fucking way. There’s something else, Britt. I know it.”

“Well, whatever reason there is, we’re still going to have to get married without her there,” Brittany reminds her. “We’ve less than ten minutes until we’re meant to be walking down the aisle.”

Santana tries to pull herself together. She takes a few deep breaths to steady herself. “I love you,” she says. “I love you more than anything, and we’re still getting married in ten minutes. I guess I just wanted to share that love with everyone. I wanted to show everyone how much I love you.”

“Quinn knows how much you love me. Quinn’s known how much you love me since before you told me, remember?” Santana thinks back to drunken parties when they were fifteen, words spilling out of her mouth that she’d forget the next morning, but Quinn would remember forever.

“Let’s get married then, yeah?” Santana says, a genuine smile on her face.

“Yeah, let’s get married.”

 

* * *

 

The ceremony goes without a hitch, everyone cries, but nobody cares because everything is so beautiful that it’d be a sin not to cry.

The party gets underway not long after, and The Troubletones make their long awaited return to the stage to rapturous applause and cheers from all the guests. Everyone gets up on stage to have a go at singing, and barely anyone sits down the entire night.

It’s almost time to wrap the party up, and Santana has been dancing with Brittany for the past twenty minutes, still in awe that this beautiful woman is actually her wife. She swears her face is going to be in pain tomorrow from smiling so much. Just as she twirls Brittany, and laughs at the faces she pulls, Rachel taps her on the shoulder.

“Not now,” she says, returning her attention to her wife.

“Um, Santana, I’m so sorry to interrupt but you’re needed outside. It’s important.”

“Is it more important than dancing with my wife on our wedding night?” she asks with venom, wishing Rachel would just leave them alone.

“I think so,” Rachel says, and her voice is so serious that it wipes the smile off Santana’s face for the first time all night.

Both Santana and Brittany make their way outside, following Rachel. The yard outside is dark but there’s a small group of people in the distance. Sam’s there, Mercedes beside him, someone sitting on a rock, hunched over in a hoodie and sweatpants.

It’s only when they get closer, they realise that person is Quinn.

“What the-” Santana mumbles under her breath. “What’s going on?”

“Sam and I came outside to get some air, and we noticed someone standing across the yard looking over. We thought we recognised them so we went to say hi. She’s… She hasn’t said anything, Santana. She’s pretty shaken up. I don’t know what’s happened.”

Panic sets in Santana’s stomach. She drops Brittany’s hand and makes her way over to Quinn. It’s only when she kneels down in front of her that she realises what Rachel meant. Quinn’s face is covered in tears, her eyes bloodshot from crying - and not just for a few minutes, it’s clear that she’s been crying for a while. But the part that makes Santana feel physically sick is what else is on her face. The bruises around her eyes. The cuts on her lip. The way she flinches when Santana reaches up to put a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Quinn…” Santana breathes out, her voice soft. “Quinn, you need to tell us what happened.”

Quinn shakes her head and cries harder. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it. Santana tries a different technique.

“Okay, Quinn, I’m gonna ask you some questions, and either nod or shake your head to tell me the answer, yeah?” Quinn nods, and Santana feels a little bit of relief.

“Quinn, do you know who did this to you?” she nods.

Santana swallows. She doesn’t even want to ask this question. “Is this why you didn’t want to come to the wedding?” Quinn nods again, and Santana’s heart sinks.

Santana looks around at everyone watching them. “Guys, can you give us a minute alone? I think she doesn’t want to be crowded. She’s scared. Everyone turns to walk away, including Brittany. Before she gets a chance to go, Santana grabs her hand. “Britt, call an ambulance. Or the cops or something. She needs help. Go back inside and don’t let anyone know anything’s wrong, okay? I love you,” she says, giving Brittany a quick kiss on the lips. Brittany nods and makes her way back inside.

With everyone else gone, Quinn looks even smaller than she did before. Santana sits down beside her, careful not to scare her or make her anxious.

“It’s just us now, Quinn. Do you think you could talk to me?”

There’s a few moments of silence where Santana thinks she isn’t going to talk. But then. “I don’t know how I even got into it. Puck broke up with me and I was lonely,” her voice is so fragile when she speaks, like every word is a struggle. “I went back to him. He was never like this before.”

“Who?”

“Biff,” she says, and Santana feels an anger rise within her. “I got your invite, and I told him I was going. He knew Puck would be there. He knew I’d slept with you. He was scared I’d cheat on him.”

“Quinn, you’d never-”

“He said I couldn’t go. So I stood up to him.” Quinn struggles to get the next words out. “So he bust my lip open,” she says, running her thumb over the cut.

“I met up with Rachel, told her I wasn’t going, but she kept trying to get me to come. She sent me texts, she called, emailed. He saw them all. He went crazy.” Her tone of voice was hollow and empty.

“Quinn, if I’d known. I’d have-”

“He’d have hurt you, too. He doesn’t exactly agree with the whole gay marriage thing.” Santana thought back to all the bullying she received when she came out, all the taunts in the hallways. But no-one ever physically hurt her. She realised then how much worse it could have been.

“How did you even get here?”

“He had a law final this morning. I knew he’d be locked in that room for three hours with no communication. So I made a run for it. Booked flights, came here.”

“You’re safe here, okay?” Santana tells her. “He can’t hurt you anymore. We’ll all keep you safe.”

Quinn starts crying again. “Santana, I’m so sorry I missed everything. I didn’t mean to. I tried so hard to be here. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” she says, crying harder every time. Santana gently, and carefully, puts her arm around Quinn’s shoulder. She flinches, not through fear, but through pain.

“Quinn, we need to get you checked over,” Santana tells her, and as she does she can hear sirens in the distance. She hopes they’re coming here.

“I’m fine,” Quinn says. “Honestly, I’m okay.”

Santana shifts from where she’s sitting and kneels in front of Quinn. “You’re not okay, Q. But you will be, yeah? We’re all gonna help you through this.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Maybe you don’t. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. But we want to help you. And things will be easier if you let us.”

“I don’t deserve your help,” Quinn says, and out of everything she’s just been told, this breaks her heart the most.

“Yes you do, Quinn. You’ve helped everyone here in one way or another. You helped Mercedes with her eating disorder, you made Rachel’s dreams come true and let her win Prom Queen, you persuaded me to tell Brittany I love her, and you helped Brittany when I wasn’t brave enough to follow through.” Quinn looks her in the eye for the first time. She looks so broken, so small. “Quinn, you are the most selfless person I’ve ever met, and I know you don’t like to need anyone for anything, and that’s okay, but please let us support you through this.”

The sirens in the distance are becoming louder and Santana’s fear subsides a little. She looks at Quinn, at her best friend of the past six years, and she wonders how anyone could ever do this to her. She knows that they’ve fought physically in the past, but she would never, ever go this far. All she wanted to do back in freshman year was show that she was the bigger bitch. She never wanted to actually cause her pain.

The sirens are even closer, and lights appear on the path leading to the yard. Quinn’s eyes widen in panic.

“They’re not here to harm you, Q. They want to make sure you’re okay, and they want to find this Biff guy and make sure that he pays for this.”

Quinn looks like she’s going to protest, but then gives in and nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re safe now, Q. You’re safe.”


End file.
